


2 a.m., the night will go as follows

by Spooks (agonizer)



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Mafia AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agonizer/pseuds/Spooks
Summary: There aren't many places two hard-working men can enjoy a drink in quiet; the mafia au, a drabble.





	2 a.m., the night will go as follows

“If it isn’t my favorite fellow… _associate_ , Night Night.” 

Ryan doesn’t have to raise his head from where he’s sitting at the bar, hunched over his drink in the otherwise almost empty bar, and look to know that voice; he could pick the guy’s voice out in a crowd of people screaming for their lives—and he has, before—just like he could recognize him by the knife in someone’s back. 

He’s done that, too.

“You here for a night cap?” ‘Legs’ Madej slides into the barstool next to him, his whole body turned towards Ryan, and he rests one elbow on the bar top, leans casually on it. There’s a smirk playing on his lips as he waits for a response, and Ryan takes a moment to watch the ice cubes clink together in his tumbler of whiskey before he responds.

“Well. I’m sure as shit not coming here for the company, am I, Legs?” He shoots back, and the look he levels him with holds the same amount of challenge that Legs’s smirk does, except now it breaks out into a full on shark grin. The bartender sets down a drink in front of Legs without even asking, and he raises it in cheers towards Ryan.

“To a successful night of honest work, then.” His grin laces into Legs’ voice, and Ryan raises his drink in turn. No one comes to this place unless they need to let the adrenaline from a night of work sizzle down to something that doesn’t threaten to spill over into the rest of their day, and they both know it.

Ryan appreciates that there’s barely anyone else in here now—there would always newbies who thought that the two of them were people to be trifled with, two fellas with such unassuming, almost ridiculous handles. Legs and Night Night: they are _someone_ ’s finest, but too good for anyone to know who they truly play for, and anyone who underestimated them tended to only do it once.

Legs hooks his leg into the back of Ryan’s barstool; there’s no mistaking the gesture for anything but possessive, and Ryan can’t help but notice that he’s now effectively sitting in the spread V of Legs’, well, legs. Whether it’s an invitation or bait, who can really say? 

The outcome is going to be the same, either way. 

“You’re a talkative one tonight, aren’t you?” The tone of Legs’ voice is teasing, like he knows he’s prodding a powder keg, but he can’t resist it, either. Ryan makes a noise that sounds like a snort, and he raises one eyebrow as he gives Legs a sideways glance. There’s the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, now, and he reaches up to loosen his tie and pop the topmost button on his shirt open.

Whatever Legs sees in that look, apparently it’s enough.

Legs gets up from his barstool and downs the last of his drink, then casually swipes his hand across Ryan’s side. If they were clumsier men, if they weren’t highly skilled men of dark alleyways, the touch could have been mistaken for unintentional, accidental.

Ryan knows better. So does Legs. 

He waits until he can hear the door opening behind his back, the sounds of the street outside, and the door falling back shut with a click again before he reaches into the pocket of his jacket. It’s the napkin from Legs’ drink, and—

There’s a hotel room number written on it. 

_Bait or invitation?_

Ryan tosses some loose bills on the bar top to cover both their drinks before he gets up—because _of course_ Legs hasn’t paid a dime—and then he’s out the door a minute later. He doesn’t bother putting on his coat; the Royale is only five minutes down the street, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> whaddup, i'm not dead! here's a quick drabble to warm up my writing fingers, 'cause i love me some night night bergara and legs madej, and just had to get a little something out. come find me on tumblr at ~madejmn!


End file.
